Brigham frowned. “What?”
“Brigham…” As Aurora trailed off, she swallowed. Calm and collected. She needed to find those two traits—right now. Before she insulted her husband. Mayhap even hurt his feelings. The pride he held for his home was evident. So was the fact he wanted her to love Mornay as much as he did. Taking a fortifying breath, she gathered her thoughts. “’Tis incredible. A true testament to strength and grace, but…”
“But?”
Seeing no way around it, Aurora let her worry go. “You could have married any woman. Made powerful allies. What I mean to say is…you could have married an heiress. Or someone so beauti—”
“I did, Aurora. And you are a great beauty.”
Tears sprang into her eyes, blurring her vision. With a huff, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him, the gentle caress full of wonderment. “You are blind, my lord, but I do believe I shall forgive you that flaw.”
Nipping her bottom lip, Brigham smiled. “Come, loving. Behold what you are now mistress of.”
Aurora nodded and waited for Brigham to guide them back onto the path to lead his men into the valley. When he held back and allowed his guards to pass in front of him instead, she swiveled in the saddle, meeting his gaze with a question in her own.
He shrugged. “They always go first. ’Tis a tradition among us.”
“What kind of tradition?”
“A symbolic one made among warriors. As with anything in life there is always give and take. They pledge to serve me, and I to protect them,” he said, his focus keen, as though searching for trouble. “This is an essential exchange, one that requires commitment and trust.”
“I don’t understand.”
“By allowing them to go ahead of me and lead the way home, I am the last to arrive safely through the gates. This tradition reminds them of their value and importance to me.”
“Conveying what? That you place their safety and well-being above your own?”
“Exactly.”
Watching the last guard pass, Aurora shook her head. Incredible, but Brigham never ceased to surprise her. God’s truth, she hardly knew what to make of him. One instant he showed teeth, antagonizing with brutish intent. And the next? He turned into a caring, responsible leader. Considered in that light, ’twas little wonder she fought confusion. On an hourly basis.
Sighing at her sorry state, Aurora resolved to ignore her bewilderment for the time being. There would, after all, be time and more to solve the puzzle of her husband once she settled into her new home. A new home that now loomed large on the horizon as Brigham descended further into the valley and approached Mornay village.
Her eyes skimmed over the collection of buildings sprinkled like salt from a shaker around the meandering edge of the castle moat. Neat and tidy, the whitewashed wattle and thatch-roofed cottages lined the main street. Some had flowers planted in front, others did not, but all were well kept and in excellent condition.
Upon hearing their arrival at the village edge, the inhabitants came out to greet them. Smiling and waving, some called out to the men. When Brigham passed, however, they grew quieter. A murmured “my lord” swept the crowd until it sounded as though they chanted. Struck by the respect and admiration Brigham commanded, Aurora chanced a quick peek in his direction, trying to gauge his reaction. His expression restrained, he said nothing, just raised a single fist into the air. The village erupted in excitement, cheering in delight at the signal all were safely home once more.
The moment held power. A potency Aurora didn’t miss. And couldn’t ignore.
Magic. A strange sense of enchantment.
Imagined certainly. And yet, the witch whisper strung her tight, making her shiver as she looked over the crowd lining the road. Her gaze touched face after face. Each person returned her regard, rapt interest in their eyes as another round of murmurs drifted through the crowd. Questions that all started with: who, what and why.
Which could only mean one thing.
Aurora bit the inside of her lip. Terrific. Just wonderful. Trust Brigham to muck it up—not think ahead, never mind send a missive to his people. ’Twas obvious from their curious expressions no one knew a thing about her…or whom she’d married. So aye. As far as the villagers knew, she was naught but a fancy bit of fluff brought home to entertain their lord during the cold winter months. Not a bad conclusion considering Brigham had left Mornay to witness his vassal take a bride, not return home with one of his own.
Lacing her fingers together, Aurora clenched her hands to keep from winding up and whacking her brute. He deserved it, after all, for leaving things unsaid. In the end, reason won out over vexation and, instead of hitting him, she nudged him with her elbow. Time to get the ball rolling and make an announcement. When he didn’t take the hint, Aurora opened her mouth to— Brigham spurred the black toward the gatehouse.
Her teeth slammed together. Raising her hand, she rubbed her jaw and, glancing over her shoulder, glared at Brigham. He ignored her. Aurora sighed. Well, so much for clearing up the confusion. Mayhap, if she got lucky, he’d get around to announcing it tomorrow.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The Truth or Nothing at All
Tomorrow turned into a month.
Aurora huffed and, footsteps quick, descended the stairs into the great hall. The morrow. Right. Late didn’t begin to describe Brigham. Not that she cared at the moment. She didn’t have time to worry about announcements. Or reprimand her husband for the lack thereof. She was too busy. Buried under an avalanche of work. Way past overload. Far beyond the reaches of normalcy as she saw to the needs of her new household to care about his lapse in protocol.
She had bigger fish to fry.
One that began and ended with the travesty called Mornay Castle. ’Twas akin to being overrun. And honestly? If she didn’t surface from beneath the list of things to organize, clean or complete soon, Aurora feared she never would. For certain her tombstone would read Here lies the Lady of Mornay, buried alive by her own home.
At first, she struggled to understand it. The land and fortifications protecting Mornay were certainly well maintained. Which presented a conundrum—perfect shape outside, a complete mess inside. Mystery territory. She solved the puzzle, however, when comprehension arrived by way of epiphany rather than investigation. The moment of clarity highlighted an important fact: Brigham, for all his skill and expertise, didn’t know any better. Unacquainted with the comforts of home, he placed no true value on them.
For him, the keep was simply a place to eat and sleep while he went about the business of guarding, defending, and acquiring. No more. Naught less. Not the least bit advisable. At least with her under his roof, because…
Hell would freeze over first.
She refused to live in what equated to a pig’s sty. So only one thing left to do. Show Brigham how a real household functioned—and smelled!—and then let him try and tell her the comforts of hearth and home held no importance.
With that end in mind, she deployed Nate.
A bastion of organization, he’d assembled the staff the morning after their arrival and gotten everyone in on the action—sorting, arranging, and whitewashing in a fit of cleaning that would, more likely than not, be talked about for years to come. Her predisposition for all things clean and tidy fast became legendary, causing the servants to term her need to scrub various parts of the keep on a regular basis obsessive.
Her nights were no less busy. Brigham kept her well occupied in their bedchamber, and in truth, out of it as well, cornering her in odd places throughout the day in the pursuit of mutual satisfaction. She huffed, the memory of the morning rising in her mind’s eyes. The brute had backed her into an empty stall in the stables, tumbling her in the fresh hay before riding off to hunt. Insatiable. Plain and simple. But then, Aurora refused to complain. She enjoyed him too much to ever put a stop to his antics.
“What has ye smiling so, m’lady?”
“Oh!” Aurora jumped a foot and…r
ealized she now stood in the center of the great hall. Still and all…what was it with everyone? The servants were forever sneaking up on her.
One hand pressed to her heart, Aurora turned to greet her new housekeeper. Recommended by Nate, Hildie was a giant of a woman, and exactly what Mornay Castle needed. Outspoken to the point of brusqueness, her ability to be caring when it counted, coupled with a talent for managing the castle staff, had been nothing less than a godsend. Married to the castle’s blacksmith, she spent most days muttering under her breath, vexed by something her husband had done.
“Good morrow, Hildie.”
“And to ye, m’lady,” Hildie said, a wide smile spread across her broad face. “Thoughts got ye in a bind, have they?”
“Ah, nay. Not precisely.” Feeling her face heat, Aurora cleared her throat, wrenching her mind away from Brigham and his talented hands…mouth…and well, body too. “I was thinking about the great hall and the best way to go about arranging the tables now that they are clean.”
“Well, now, that is fine. But that blush tells me your mind was a-wandering in a different direction all t’gether.” Pausing for effect, Hildie chuckled. “Mayhap toward that man of yers, and how fine it is to have him between your sheets?”
The heat prickling along her cheeks, Aurora shuffled her feet, scrambling to climb out of the hole she’d become good at digging herself into. Her brain failed her, leaving her floundering with naught but her red face for defense.
“For shame, Hildie. You are embarrassing our newlywed.” Nate grinned, stepping alongside Aurora.
“Nonsense. I know a well-pleasured lady when I see one. ’Tisn’t any shame in that, let me tell ye. Many a lass would dearly love to be so well pleased.”
“Aye, and as often, I warrant,” Nate said, tone dry, eyes twinkling. He raised a brow at Aurora. “Was that not your husband I saw, chasing everyone out of the stables early this morn?”
Were it possible to burst into flame, Aurora knew she would be on fire by now. Blast and damn, did everyone know her business? Turning on Nate as if to hit him, she smiled as Hildie laughed and her target pranced away.
“Aye, well.” Her lips pursed, Aurora wagged her finger at Nate. “You are jealous, ’tis all.”
“Undoubtedly.” Nate’s smile turned into a true grin. The mischievous scamp. “But don’t count me out. I have high hopes for myself yet.”
“Lord keep us!” Rolling her eyes, Hildie shook her head. “Now, m’lady, about those tables.”
Planting both hands on her hips, Aurora looked over the assortment of furniture. “Aye. Well, I think we should begin by arranging the tables.” She motioned to the one closest to her. “Nate, you take one end and Hildie and I will—”
“Oh, nay m’lady!” A look of horror on her face, Hildie clasped her hands. “Yer not thinkin’ to help, now are ye? Ye shouldn’t be liftin’ and such.”
“Why ever not?”
“Well, yer a lady,” Hildie said by way of explanation.
“Of course I am, Hildie.” Aurora frowned at her housekeeper. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
Hildie wrung her hands, abusing her chapped fingers. “Well, m’lady. Ladies don’t…err…work and such. Yer not bred for such exertion. ’Twill tax ye sorely.”
“I see.” Although, she didn’t. Not really. “What, then, is a lady supposed to do?”
Pursing her lips, Hildie thought about it. “Yer to sit in yer solar and … umm, well, rest?”
Nate snorted in disbelief. “Rest?”
Vexed by her housekeeper’s opinion, Aurora pursed her lips. No time like the present. Her household—along with Hildie—needed to understand something. Lady or nay, she planned to work alongside everyone else. “Do I look like I need to rest, Hildie?”
Hildie looked her over. “Well, nay, m’lady. ’Tis the truth ye appear fit enough to me, but the master’ll not like it if ye hurt or tire yerself out.”
“By the saints, Hildie,” Nate said, laughing. “If she has thus far survived Lord Brigham’s appetite, do you not think her able to move a few tables about?”
Aurora’s mouth fell open. “Nate!”
Grinning like a rascal, Nate shrugged. “What? ’Tisn’t anything but the truth.”
“God’s teeth.” Exasperation leaching into her tone, Aurora muttered, “There are days I actually contemplate murder.”
Hildie’s lips twitched before she winked at Nate. “Oh, aye, when you put it that way—”
“Enough,” Aurora said, desperate to propel the conversation in a different direction. “Get over here, both of you, and help me.”
Aurora spent the next hour proving all the servants wrong. She lifted tables. She dragged chairs over the stone floor, picked up stools and arranged benches. She even scrubbed, getting down on her knees to clean the hearth stones. As she debated the merits of each prospective arrangement and decided where everything would go, satisfaction sank deep. Almost there. A real home with a clean place for all to eat. To share a meal and come to know one another better.
Something that Mornay desperately needed.
The past few weeks had been an extreme lesson in frustration. The servants treated her like a plague carrier, fleeing in fear whenever she approached. At least today, Hildie had come to her senses, treating her like a mistress instead of a leper. Mayhap, were Aurora patient enough, the others would follow suit.
“Well now, that is fine!”
Brushing the hair out of her eyes, Aurora nodded. “Aye, Hildie, a marked improvement. ’Twas a good idea to place those two high-backed chairs in front of the hearth.”
“A fine spot for ye to sit and sew in the evenings, m’lady,” Hildie said, her bright eyes sweeping the area.
Aurora groaned, certain her housekeeper’s remark heralded another ridiculous opinion on the conduct of ladies. “Sew?”
“Oh. Do ye not sew, m’lady?”
“Sew, indeed!” Clutching his stomach, Nate roared with laughter.
“Hildie,” Aurora said, gritting her teeth. “I have been here more than a month now. Have you ever seen me sew?”
“Umm, nay m’lady. But if ye do not sew, what do ye do?”
Spying the devilry in her Hildie’s eyes, Aurora raised a brow. “I kick unsuspecting housekeepers, that’s what I do.”
Hildie snorted, giggling like a girl. “Oh, my lady, ye should have seen your face when I mentioned the sewing.”
Aurora shook her head as Nate joined in, and both he and Hildie laughed at her expense. Her lips twitched. Both had every right to tease her. Womanly skills, after all, weren’t her forte. Indeed, she lacked most of them. The fact her training had been interrupted by the death of her mother, then obliterated by her uncle did nothing to suppress her amusement. She saw the humor in it and, if naught else, was able to laugh at herself.
“You do realize you are both in danger of losing your minds?”
“Oh, m’lady, you’re a good’un, that’s what ye are. And to think we were all so afraid when our lord brought ye home. I don’t know what we were about, thinking you were like the other one.” Wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands, Hildie patted her on the shoulder. “Bless the saints, how we could have compared ye to a viper like that…well, ’tis beyond anything. Aye, and ’tis as plain as the nose on my face you love the master and would do naught to hurt him. Praise God ye were sent to us, m’lady…’tis about time Lord Brigham had someone like ye.”
“Love him?” Aurora blinked. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Love Brigham? Did she really? The question churned a moment, delaying her reaction to Hildie’s other bit of news. Her gaze riveted to her housekeeping, she frowned. “The other one?”
“What other one?” Nate asked, his voice rolling over Aurora’s.
“Now, now, m’lady, don’t ye go worryin’ yourself about it.” Hildie, oblivious to the confusion she’d caused with her comment, sailed on without noticing the interruption. She gave Aurora another pat. “I’ll be setting th
e rest of ’em straight, just see if I don’t.”
Her mouth half open, Aurora watched her housekeeper charge out of the hall, her mind focused on setting everyone straight about a topic she was still trying to identify. God’s teeth, she felt as though she’d been bludgeoned with a large club. Dazed by the blow, she swayed as an irrevocable realization came into sharp and unforgiving focus.
“I love him. Dear God, when did that happen?” she asked, stunned by the enormity of it. “I need to sit down.”
“The other one? Aurora, what the devil was Hildie talking about?” More interested in that bit of information than the contents of her heart, Nate took her arm and led her over to the hearth.
Fingertips pressed to both temples, Aurora slumped into one of the high-backed chairs. “Nate, I love him…I love Brigham.”
Nate snorted, eyeing her as though she were an imbecile. “I know.”
She raised both brows.
He shrugged. “I’ve known for a while.”
“You have?”
“Of course.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Aurora gave him a cross look. Some friend. He’d known all along while she tortured herself, trying to sort out her feelings and determine what all of it meant.
“Would you have listened?”
“Probably not. But you should have told me anyway.”
Unable to argue with her lopsided logic, Nate waved his hand, the gesture one of dismissal. “Irrelevant…all of it. What other, Aurora?”
“I have no idea. No one has ever mentioned anything to me.”
“Naturally. They are all too busy running in the opposite direction.”
“Noticed that, did you?” Her thoughts took an unpleasant turn as an idea began to take shape. “I wondered—”
“Why all the servants are so deathly afraid of you?” Nate said, finishing her sentence as he caught her direction. “A viper is what she said.”
Eyes narrowed, Aurora stared her friend. “I should have guessed. I mean…it makes perfect sense. The servants are afraid of me because they learned to fear her.”
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